Red Cross
by Dixie Dewdrop
Summary: What is Jethro's response when his son is ill?  This is part of my Fate scenario.
1. Then

Then

"Dad? Daddy?"

As soon as the last phoneme entered his unconscious sleep state, Jethro Gibbs rocketed awake. Pushing the blanket from around his shoulders he shifted from the side he was facing to the other side of his bed, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Reaching down he grabbed the back of his son's head as Tony was scooting himself onto the empty side. Once all the way on the bed, he fell flat and moaned, then turned towards his father.

"Dad, I don't feel good."

Immediately Jethro's palm brushed back Tony's bangs so that he could rest his hand on his son's forehead. The boy was burning up. Jethro sat up straighter and leaned over to cut on the lamp and check the time- 3:30 a.m. "I don't understand. You were fine at curfew, and that was just two and a half hours ago."

Tony groaned and shifted. "I know, Dad. I just feel bad now."

Jethro got off the bed and moved to the other side. "Get under the covers, Son, I'll help." With a minimum of assistance from Tony, who was attempting to just curl up and sleep, his father managed to get him under the covers, and not out and exposed to the cold air. Gibbs made his way to the bathroom, and opening the medicine cabinet, pulled out the thermometer and ibuprofen. Filling a glass with water, he reached over and grabbed a clean washcloth, which he soaked with cold water, then wrung out the excess. Bedside, he had to physically lift Tony's head and then order him to open his mouth for the thermometer. Tony finally obeyed, but Jethro had to lean over and prop it enough in his mouth to get a reading. When he got the reading, a hundred and four, he immediately felt his stomach tighten. Tony was sick, all right.

"Hey, Tony, sit up a minute. I want to give you the medicine." Tony groaned and tried to snuggle further into his cocoon. Gibbs steeled himself to get firm. "I said right now! Sit up and open your eyes and let me give you the medicine." Tony slowly obeyed, and carefully swallowed the pills and drank the water his Dad handed him. Gibbs wiped his mouth and face and Tony looked at him gratefully.

"Are you going to call the Red Cross, Dad?"

Gibbs smiled in response. "I will in a minute. I want you to tell me what hurts, though."

"Everything, Dad, I hurt all over. It feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest."

"Do you think you're going to be sick to your stomach?" Gibbs offered the glass of water again, and Tony drank.

"No, no sir."

"Ok, so you started feeling bad after you got home tonight?" Tony had the grace to blush and Gibbs amended his assumption. "No, you felt bad before you went out, but you didn't tell me, and went out anyway. Is that right?"

"Maybe-"

"No maybe. If you knew you were feeling bad you should have stayed home."

Tony sighed and answered honestly. "Dad, my curfew's at one, so it didn't give me that many hours anyway to be out- I'd be back soon. Dad, I'm a college senior- twenty one. Can't you knock off the curfew, or at least make it a reasonable time? Clubs are just starting to pop at one, and then I have to go home."

"Sure, I'll let the curfew go, but in exchange, you will give up the car. Either you have the car with the curfew, or you don't have the car at all."

"Never mind- I was just pointing out that I am the only one who has to get home at the same time as kids."

"Don't worry too much about it," Jethro smiled. Bending down, he kissed the top of Tony's head. "Go to sleep. Ducky will be here early."

Tony nodded and squirmed over until half of his body was on one side of the bed, and the other half was on the side his father had just vacated.

Jethro waited until Tony was asleep, then headed down to the kitchen, put on the coffee, and called the Red Cross. Ducky was asleep, but Jethro left the message and hung up. Ducky would come as soon as he got the call.

The Red Cross- Jethro leaned back in his chair and smiled at the memory of Tony nicknaming Dr. Mallard. Tony was around four, when one summer night past midnight, his father felt him crawl up on the other side of the bed. Gibbs had fallen asleep only a few minutes earlier and was startled to find Tony in the bed. He couldn't believe it was already morning! It took him almost a full minute to realize that it was still night.

"Daddy, I don't feel good, " Tony had crawled over one side of the bed until he was almost on top of his father. "My head hurts."

Gibbs sat up immediately and cut on the light. There was Tony, in his Batman pajamas and clutching his stuffed dog, attempting to nuzzle himself on top of his daddy. Jethro reached down and grabbed him, then settled him on top of his own body. He could feel heat radiating off him. Jethro kissed the top of Tony's head, and whispered, "Hey, I'm going to get up and get the thermometer and some med..."

Before he could finish, Tony was sick all over himself, his father, the bed, and the floor below. Jethro grabbed him quickly, and when he finished, Tony looked up sadly and said, "Daddy, you didn't ask me if I felt sick to my tummy."


	2. Now

Now

Sitting in his kitchen seventeen years later Jethro chuckled to himself. No, he hadn't asked, but from that night on, any time Tony looked ill, Jethro always checked for nausea first! Pouring himself more coffee, he finished recalling his memory.

He had managed to get both of them clean, strip the bed, and get Tony's temperature taken within a half hour. Jethro mentally thanked his be- prepared- for- anything Marine training. The fever was a hundred and four that night also, and Jethro managed to get Tony to keep down the medicine and drink some water. Reaching for the phone, Tony looked at his dad accusingly. "It's not good manners to call people at late night, Daddy. Abuela said so."

Gibbs grinned and dialled, "You are right, but we're going to call Ducky. He's a doctor, right? Well, Ducky's like the Red Cross- you always call him when disaster strikes."

Tony, worn out and beginning to tear up because he felt so bad, nodded his approval. "Ok, Daddy- let's call in the Red Cross."

Gibbs checked the kitchen clock. It was after four. Walking quietly, he made his way back to his room to check on Tony. Tony was curled almost in a ball, with only his hair sticking out of the covers. His father shifted the blanket so that he could feel his forehead, then visibly relaxed when he realized Tony wasn't as hot as he had been. Covering him again he shook his head at Tony's ritual. Anytime that Tony felt sick, he would head straight to his father' s room and crawl into his bed. Once daylight came Jethro could move him back to his own bed, but Tony demanded that he stay in his dad's bed until morning. Gibbs thought Tony must have some hidden toddler memories of before Shannon's death, when as a baby, Jethro and Shannon would bring Tony into their bed when he was sick.

Back in the kitchen, his mind skipped through scenes of Tony's childhood illnesses. He focused on one, when Tony was eleven. Tony felt so bad that by the time he had made it into his father's bed and woken him, he was crying from sheer exhaustion. He had been a sick little boy that time, and Ducky had diagnosed tonsils that had to be removed immediately. As soon as he was well and the antibiotic finished, Tony's tonsils were removed. Despite the fact that the nurses fell in love with him and made a big fuss over him, which Tony definitely enjoyed, he hated the hospital and begged Ducky and Jethro to let him go home quickly.

Dawn was breaking and Jethro slipped back up to the bedroom to check his son. Tony was sleeping restlessly, shifting a bit, and Jethro could tell his fever was going back up. He dressed quickly. It was Saturday, so he didn't have to go to the Agency. Tony, a senior at Ohio State, was home for Christmas break, so he wouldn't be missing classes.

Ducky was just coming through the door when Jethro headed back downstairs. They exchanged nods and Ducky went to Tony. Instinctively he turned to Jethro's bedroom.

Jethro put on a fresh pot of coffee and got some water heated for Ducky's tea. He pulled out sugar and cream, and had everything ready when Ducky finished his assessment and came to brief Jethro.

Sipping their beverages, both marvelled at the number of times the same scene had transpired between them. Definitely, it was déjà vu.

"The lad's pretty sick. It's bronchitis, so he will need a regimen of antibiotics. I gave him a shot of penicillin, but you are going to have to get this prescription for an antibiotic filled. I want him to take the entire ten days of medicine, even if he feels better."

Jethro nodded in understanding, "Ok, Duck, I'll get the prescription first thing."

"I know you will," Ducky smiled. "He needs to rest, not gallivant as he is wont to do."

Jethro nodded again and thanked his friend for coming to his aid. Ducky waved his hand in dismissal. "You need to rest, too, Jethro. Try to get some sleep when he does. I'll come check him this evening."

Three days later Tony was sitting up on the sofa, loosely wrapped in a blanket. He held the remote aimed at the television and his lip was poked in a pout as he called out to his parent, "Dad, I don't feel sick anymore. There's no reason I can't go out now. I don't have a fever anymore. Dad, are you listening? It is just plain wrong. This is not fair to not let me go anywhere or do anything!"

Jethro entered the living room and turned his gaze on his son. Correctly interpreting the stare, Tony's eyes went wide and he quickly amended, "I didn't mean to yell, Dad, or to sound disrespectful."

His father nodded in agreement and pointed to the television. "There are plenty of things to watch, and you also have lots to read. Quit complaining, and quit whining."

"Dad, you are being overprotective. Why can't I at least have my phone? My social life is suffering. I feel like I am on house arrest or something." Tony's pout intensified.

"No phone, no car, no friends, no anything until you have been fever free for three days. That hasn't happened yet. Yes, I guess it is house arrest, but if you keep up with that attitude, it's going to be house arrest combined with a sore bottom. Am I clear?"

Tony sighed and realized his father wasn't going to be swayed from his decision. Further, keeping up fussing might not be wise. His dad always kept him close to home when he was sick, and as for the threat of a sore bottom, he really didn't want his dad to make good on that threat. He still had a tender spot from Ducky's injection of penicillin. "I got it, Dad."

Jethro smiled and went over to tousle Tony's hair. "You're still not strong enough to get back to a full schedule now. Just behave, and follow orders, and maybe, just maybe, we can give the Red Cross a good Christmas present- not needing his services for the rest of the holiday!"


End file.
